The Battle of Sigmar's Circle


   Though the isle seemed perpetually covered in mist and rain, Brother Piotr the Unyielding stood bathed in the light and heat from a great bonfire. The last of corpses on the beasts who walked like men were already being piled onto the fire and the flames doing their work; purifying the corrupted bodies and cleansing both the air and the earth that the creatures had desecrated with their presence. Despite the rain, the fire which carried the unpure to be remade on Sigmar’s forge burned strong.
 The flame served another purpose. As it rose into the sky, it split into two distinct tails matching those of Sigmar’s Hammer as it descends from the sky. The men of the Cleansing Flame, scattered in the days battle, saw the flame. It guided them through the darkness with its promise of shelter, protection and warmth. In ones and twos, the survivors trickled back into camp. Despite his name, Brother Piotr was a tolerant and simple man. He knew the teachings of Sigmar to be simple good sense, akin to planting seeds in spring or putting boots on before walking in the snow. He laughed and jested with the men as they returned to camp. Their shame was written all over their faces and he knew they needed no admonishments. He also knew that Brother Darius was of no such mind and knew that the true faith of Sigmar must burn in the breast of each man who returned knowing they would face Darius’ wrath.
 When most of the army had returned, Brother Darius strode to the centre of the circle of men that had gathered around the fire.  As the flames started to die, he began is diatribe. “Look!” he boomed, pointing to dying flames. “Sigmar closes his eyes, so ashamed is he to look on those that claim to serve him. Today, on the field of honor, you disgraced yourselves. The battle had barely begun when you ran. And from what?! A cow on a wheeled cart!”
 Brother Piotr saw the gleam shining in Darius’ eyes. At times he admired his brother’s zealous madness, but now he saw it only a threat to the shaky morale of their army. The men were cold, wet, and far from home on a strange island of bogs, mud and rain. Berating them for a lack of faith was going to do no good. With all eyes on Darius, Piotr surreptitiously rolled one of the beasts’ bodies back into the heart of the flames.
 “Brother. You judge the men too harshly,” he stated as he rose smoothly from where he had been seated. As the fire flared he continued “You see. Even now Sigmar comes to gaze on the men who did him honor this day and drove the beasts away. Though some ran, the faithful have returned, and in their flight gave the rest time to secure Sigmar’s stone.”
 It was true in a way. The man who directed them to this stone, calling himself a truthsayer, had passed the tests and been declared pure. The stone circle had intensified the priests’ powers and now that it was consecrated it had become Sigmar’s stone. The truthsayer no longer had to fear it being used by the dread forces of Chaos. As for the men’s flight, well, Brother Piotr saw it, with all the beasts chariots massed on one flank, as  a necessary evil for some men to delay and flee while the others secured the circle.
 “Tonight is a time for celebration. Sigmar would have it no other way.” As if in response to his words, the fire flared again and seemed to crackle more loudly. “Yet, even in celebration must we learn so that the next time we face a foe, there may be more men left to celebrate and fewer to bury.” As he finished, so to did the rain. To Brother Piotr, this was another sign of Sigmar’s care. “The Lord Sigmar has even stopped the rain so that each group may a fire of its own. Gather, eat, drink, and discuss the battle. Listen to each man’s story so that you may better know the men with which you fight and learn from their mistakes as well as successes.”
 The mood of the crowd brightened like the fire and the began to break up into small groups. The voices became more animated and their gestures more lively.
 “Do not forget to give thanks to Sigmar that you live to see another day.” added Darius, as he scowled at Piotr and retired to his tent to pray. His words sobered the crowd, but could not kill their excitement at being alive and victorious.
 Brother Piotr let the men alone for a while, but as they finished their meals, he went among the groups and asked for their recollections from the battle.
 

 Most men rememberd that they had approached the circle from the west while the Beastmen came from the east. None knew the exact numbers of the beasts, but it was agreed that the forces were almost equal in number [OOC- Not really, armies were Beastmen- 2 Big blocks of Gors, 3 Minos, 3 Chariots (one with Chieftain), 1 Shaman (lvl 2) and 5 hounds VS 10 xbows, 10 archers, 5 Huntsmen, 5 Pistoliers, 24 Free Company, 24 Halberds (detachment of 10 Free Company), Halfling Hot Pot and 2 Battle Priests], and that the beasts massed their chariots in the north across from the crossbows and the halfling stew pot. Most knew that the large bullheaded creatures were in the centre, ahead of the groups of beasts and across from their own main units.
 After that though, most groups knew only their role in the battle. Despite fleeing from the field, the Huntsmen felt they had done their job well, distracting the bull-creatures and firing an opening volley that dropped 2 of the hounds and caused the others to turn tail and run.
 The Hot Pot crew were also happy with their contribution, especially their fourth shot, which landed directly in the middle of a group of beasts within Sigmar’s circle and drove them away howling in fear and panic- it was no shame to them that they then had to flee from one of the chariots.
 The crossbows were sullen and quiet. Though they had added to the volley that drove the second group of beasts from the circle, they were not quick enough to escape the chariot and had lost almost half their number to the beasts.
 None of the Free Companies were happy. Though the unit knew it was in an unenviable position, being closest of the main units to the beasts chariots, they were disappointed in their own courage. Though the beat off the first chariots charge, they could not catch and destroy the machine, and when the leader’s chariot charged, they broke and fled.
 The archers lifted their drinks in toast after toast to dead comrades. They had lost half their number by battles end, but had stood firm and stopped the charge of the largest creatures in the beasts’ herd.
 The Halberdiers seemed uncertain. They had been Piotr’s bodyguard, and brought him safe to the circle, but did not see any real battle- the bull headed creatures had fled from their charge [OOC- When the archers didn’t break, the halberds charge the minos in the flank and the minos panicked] and by the time the leader on his chariot had reached them, the circle was secure and Sigmar himself appeared to drive away the beasts.
 The Pistoliers mood was even harder to judge. They knew it was they that won the battle-- breaking one of the big beast units, killing the last of bullcreatures, driving off the hounds after the beasts’ magic had compelled them to fight once more, and contributing to the volleys that eventually drove the beasts from the circle-- yet, they were not happy. They felt that they could have done better and were disappointed in their riding skills. They knew that many of today’s deaths were unnecessary. Had they rode just a little faster, they could have ended the battle early. Instead of fleeing from the apparition of Sigmar, the foul shaman of the beasts should have been trampled beneath their hooves and the flank of the second beasts unit shattered by their attack. Though to the rest they were heroes, the burden of guilt lay heavy on them. Brother Piotr though would have none of that, and by the time the fires had died to embers, all the men felt like heroes and were ready once more to march forth in the name of Sigmar and Cleansing the world with his holy flame.

[OOC- Pistoliers explanation- 3rd turn, the two gors units are in the circle side by side, the pistoliers just managed to make a charge into the flank of the Gor unit with the Shaman in it. They manage to break the unit, but when the Gors only fled 7”, the Pistoliers stumbled and rolled only 6”. So, not only did they not get to flank and hopefully break the second unit, they didn’t even catch the shaman’s unit. Luckily, my opponent managed to fail a number of panic tests, and the pistoliers managed to use their stand and shoot to good effect. They also made an important LD test to not break when charged by the Mino champ (with only 1 wound left). In the second round challenge, the Marksmen managed to do the final wound before the Mino could strike with his 2 Handed Weapon. This left the Pistoliers and the front rank of the Halberds in the circle. Though the halberds were flank charged by the Chieftain’s chariot, the priest was still in the circle for the magic phase. When he was able to dispel the Shaman’s Crows’ Feast on the Pistoliers, the game was effectively over. Because of the scenario rules, the Empire came away with the win, but by the end of the game (assuming the halberds would have broken which is likely) all I had left was 3 Pistoliers and 5 archers, while he had two half strength units of gors (one fleeing), 3 chariots and 2 fleeing hounds.
For those of you who think I was a bastard to play a scenario where the heaviest hitting part of his army could get to the objective, I would like to note that I warned him of that problem and asked if he would like to play a regular game. He declined.]
 
 
 
 

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